


Of Shipwrecks and Sirens

by 19_empty_vacancies



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, MerMay, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:14:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19_empty_vacancies/pseuds/19_empty_vacancies
Summary: “I thought these would look nice around your fins. You do so love to be a sparkly tit.”“You love me being a sparkly tit.”





	Of Shipwrecks and Sirens

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I told [toothscratch](http://toothscratch.tumblr.com/) that he should draw something for mermay and then we got to world building.

It’s mostly dark, light from the dying sun barely filtering down this deep, but Howard is on a mission and a Moon always completes their missions. Even when said mission involves dwelling in the depths of ships long since forgotten and pausing every now and then to pick off a sample of colour living on the rotten wood. With a final hurrah from the sun far above, something shiny glints deep in the shadows of a hull barely visible through the breach in the side.

Excellent.

Howard ducks down and twists through the broken and splintered wood, arching and doubling over to allow for his bags to slide through with him and then it’s an easy glide, eyes already adjusted to the near dark of the hull. Here Howard can see clearly the devastation that sent this ship to its grave and takes a moment to take it all in. He’s the records keeper, it wouldn’t do for any false information to be spread around when he can easily learn the facts; but it is all as he remembers, nothing different and nothing changed.

Nodding to himself, Howard swims forward; reaching to grab what was once the banister to stairs and pushes himself forward. He never understood those younger than he who always try and show off, try to impress him with twists and fancy moves. All it does is deplete their energy; why exhaust yourself when you have so many handholds around you to push yourself along?

Finally, Howard reaches the dark where the glint originated from and marvels at the spoils spilled across the cavern. He’d long forgotten the name of the pirate who’d captained this ship, but he remembered well his rein of terror, of his pillaging of the rich, conquering the slave merchants and still, so many moons later, feels sadness deep behind his ribs about this ship’s fate. Never the less, he had a job to do, a home to return to and a Colobus the Crab episode to catch.

It didn’t take long to sort through the ship’s spoils as not much was of his interest. No, instead Howard sifted through the coins and gems and plucked up the jewellery, tucked strings of pearls and dainty chains in his bag, weighed his options over bangles and elegant hair pins, let out an elated giggle at an intact mirror which was immediately sequestered away in the bag.

Leaving the wreck went the same as entering, lazy glides and thoughtful glances. At the breach in the hull which served as his exit, Howard swam down to scoop up the bag he’d allowed to drop when he’d first arrived; it wouldn’t do to leave the colourful samples of life behind, after all, he’d taken his time gathering them as a surprise. Twisting through the breach went as simply as any time he’d done it, save for having to unsnag his shirt from a particularly jagged piece of wood.

Sliding out into the dark is when Howard finally noticed that his bioluminescence had activated, probably when the sun had sunk well behind the horizon, and that he was colouring the sand beneath him a faint blue; the same blue his watch glowed when he touched the button to light up the face to see the time.

It didn’t take long to reach the meet point, a cluster of rocks amid a small kelp forest, and when he arrived Howard saw Vince lounging, stretched out across the largest rock while he twined his hair absently through his fingers. He certainly cut an alluring figure, splayed out as he was with his long, impossibly thin fins rippling with the faint current and his shirt billowing up around him while he waited.

Eyes closed, Vince tilted his head and spoke up, “You gonna keep creepin’ like a peeper, ‘Oward, or are you gonna come over here?”

Howard didn’t need more prompting and he drifted over, twisting around so that he could lean by Vince’s elbow. “You know I like to take my time, I’m a details man, Vince. I gotta take in all the finer details this life has to offer.” Howard watched as Vince’s smirk softened into a pleased smile, the reaction he’d intended to receive with his words.

“Always know how to flatter me donchu, ‘Oward,” Vince opened his eyes and sat up, shirt absently following his movements and gently brushing against Howard’s cheek. “You find anything in that ship of yours?”

Shifting to sit of the rock with Vince, Howard drew the bag with his spoils to his lap. “I did indeed, little man. Some very nice things.”

“Mm do tell.” Vince leaned forward until he was pressed against Howard’s arm and hooked his chin over his shoulder, so he could gaze down into the bag. Howard didn’t say anything, instead he opened the bag and began to gently withdraw the necklaces he’d found, pausing to untangle them before handing them to Vince.

“I thought these would look nice around your fins. You do so love to be a sparkly tit.”

“You love me being a sparkly tit.”

Vince gently took the thin gold chains from Howard’s palm, marveling at it as Howard plucked out the pearl necklace and draped it over Vince’s head twice before knotting the excess. Howard had brought Vince so many different things over the years that he’s had to start cycling through it all so each piece has its chance to be seen, to be adorned around his fins and draped across his tail.

(400 hundred and something years accumulates a fair hoard of finery and Howard does so love to show Vince how much he means to him; has since he first saw him from that ship so long ago.)

“What’s in the other bag?”

“I found some more species of coral that we haven’t seen much of and thought they’d look nice with that garden you’re building.”

“Genius.”

Howard searched through the bag until he found the wide bracelet which still shone bright even after so many years in the salt. Focusing on the opening the latch so the bracelet could fall open, Howard drifted from the rock down to float around Vince’s caudal fins. His small “Ha!” was met with Vince looking down at him with a soft smile, completely unnoticed as Howard carefully closed the bracelet around the thinnest point of muscle before Vince’s pearlescent silver fins.

Once on, Vince flicked his tail, admiring the shiny gems embedded in gold. “Perfect fit. Dunno how you find them, Howard.”

Coming back up to lean into Vince’s space, Howard pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, “I’ve had years to learn what fits best, little man.”

 

They met when Howard was still young and living on ships, acting as lookout and cook and all in between. He’d passed through many ships, some merely a means of transport, some places he called home with shipmen he called family; others because they’d followed the haunting call which carried on the wind.

His da used to tell him stories in the heart of night, of the songs his family would sing, of their meaning. That they came from the line of those cast overboard, forced down deep, to drown and choke on salt as they screamed until their voices were gone. That they came from a line who learned to breathe no matter what and to bring what those who’re wicked deserve; that they learnt to hide in clear sight, to move across both land and sea.

They met on a night when the sky was clear, and the moon was black, when Howard was draped across the gap between the figurehead and its lantern, as at ease on the perilous perch as any other part of the ship. They met because Howard had heard the water beneath him shift, heard fins glide, cutting through water. Heard the beginnings of a chilling song.

They met because instead of succumbing as the others on the ship did, instead of dropping into the water to be pulled down, Howard relaxed further into the wood of the siren figurehead and began to sing along.

With the sounds of bodies hitting the waves cutting through an otherwise silent night, Howard had laughed. He’d always found it interesting that of the ships he stepped on, most were full of vile, unscrupulous characters who wanted nothing more that to fight and murder and rape. He’d never figured out how he knew which ships would someday soon be lured down, perhaps it was some instinct, something in his nature; after all, he was the one to lure them down in the end. Only to restart his life at another port; at a different coast.

But that night, with the air full of haunting singing and uproarious laughter, with splashes and drowned screams, was one Howard endeavored to never forget. Why would he want to? The sound of his and Vince’s song twined together was one of the most beautiful things he’s heard in his extremely long life.

 

And while now they have jobs, work on land in a shop with a Shaman and his gorilla familiar, sometimes, when the wind is right, and the moon is dark, they travel, they go out into the depths and let their voices act as the omen it is. They sing of warning and promise and when there’s none around, of each other.


End file.
